For some ungodly reason the guy I called “Barney Fife,” (but never to his face), had Dad handcuffed.He made me sit down across the room from Dad. ... was told I couldn’t go to my room and I couldn’t talk to, or touch Dad. I was about to smart off and ask him if he was going to handcuff me too, when Dad gave me his, “behave yourself” face, and I figured I better not mess with a man with limited intelligence who carried a gun.The crime scene people came downstairs and gave a report to the detective. .. the High Priestess of the Power of Lesbos, keeper of the secret works and guardian of the Rod of Sappho." Jane said."That's quite a title." Ron chuckled."This is no fucking joke!" Jane flared at him.Ron seemed taken back, he sobered and nodded to Jane."I'm sorry. I didn't mean to indicate I thought it was funny. I know from experience with Susan that this is serious. I won't interrupt again." he said.Jane seemed to nod to him."Alright. From the dawn of the creation of the world -or of men,. As I become more slippery and wanting more. He awakens flipping us over, letting me have perfect access to his neck. Grabbing hold I suck, trying to leave a mark. Yet I cannot. Arching my back as an orgasm rushes through me. I can feel my pelvic walls squeezing his cock. Rolling my hips as I turn to doggy. I love doggy style. His strong hands gripping my hips as he thrusts faster, harder. Making me moan louder as I meet his thrusts. "Don't stop.......please.......don't.......stop.....fuck.". A furtive look told me that my voyeur was still in his office; therefore my show could continue. I dropped the towel and bent over my suitcase making sure that my tits were dangling in profile for my little Scottish friend. I slowly selected the underwear that I’d brought specially for Paul; a matching black and silver bra and thong from La Perla and a pair of 8 denier shiny black hold-up stockings. It was Hellishly exciting as I gradually pulled my knickers up over my hips then eased each.